A Man's Touch
by undercloakkept
Summary: Ron has a grand plan to redecorate the kitchen, but it's really so much more. Will Hermione be pleased? WARNING: Fluffy puff of sentimental sweetness.


**A MAN'S TOUCH **by undercloakkept

"Dibs on the Library!"

"Predictable," Ron laughed. "And a poor strategy, at that! You know I won't be bothered with the library." He paused for dramatic effect. "Kitchen."

Hermione gasped. "What? Not the bedroom? Or, better yet, the shed?"

"The kitchen's the heart of the home, 'Mione. So says my mum and so says me. And the deal was, we each get to decorate one room _precisely_ as we choose. No interference. And I've got just one word for you. _Orange._"

Later that week, Hermione wasn't feeling optimistic as she surveyed her little kitchen for the last time. True, it was small and rather shabby, but at least it wasn't orange. As she prepared to Floo to work, she realized that for the first time since she'd married Ron, she almost dreaded coming back home. It didn't help that Ron was Flooing her off so cheerily. He was obviously in high spirits and eager for her to be gone.

One by one, the Weasley brothers apparated into Ron and Hermione's garden. Ron had enlisted their help to demolish most of one kitchen wall. The opening was now just large enough to allow them to maneuver a massive wooden table through. It took all five of them and more than a few levitation charms to move the table into place. There had only been enough time left to cover the gaping hole with black tarpaper and an adhesion spell. Surveying the table, which now stretched almost wall to wall, Ron realized that perhaps he'd have to enlarge the room to accommodate some of the lesser kitchen essentials, like cabinetry and Hermione's favorite Muggle appliances. But those details could wait.

Ron spent the next few hours carefully cleaning and polishing the wooden table, but he made no effort to conceal the many deep gouges that marred its broad surface. After hastily improvising seating using several boxes of Hermione's books, he surveyed the day's results with utter satisfaction. His decorating was complete. He knew Hermione and her mum would be more than delighted to finish it off. He wouldn't even make them paint it orange.

A rustle from the Floo announced Hermione's return. Ron spun around just in time to capture her look of dismay as she surveyed the ugly tarpaper wall and the remnants of the same shabby kitchen she'd left behind that morning. He carefully watched her face as she took it all in, settling on the enormous table that now overwhelmed the room. Her face immediately softened with recognition and her voice was almost a whisper. "How?"

"I asked Professor McGonagall for it when she was restoring the Great Hall. She's been keeping it for me, for _all_ of us really, ever since. It just seemed…it's always been…that it should be…._ours_." Ron's voice held a tinge of embarrassment, but he was looking at her hopefully. Hermione ran her fingers over the generations of carvings.

**Ron Weasley, Keeper**

**_hGj_**

Hermione paused, remembering. She had been much too proper to do it herself. Despite Malfoy's mockery, Ron had patiently carved the complicated monogram she'd requested near the end of sixth year.

**JP + LE 4ever**

That poignant carving had darkened with age.

**Harry James Potter**

He'd chosen a spot as close to his parents as possible.

**GRYFFINDOR**

**Fred Weasley was here **

She pressed her palm flat over this one, sending a silent prayer.

**Minnie**

It was almost impossible to imagine.

**D A****  
**

**P a d f o o t**

**Ginny loves Harry**

Ginny had made her brothers pay for that one with bat-bogies, but she'd not gone so far as to deny it.

They were all here. All of them. Generation upon generation of Gryffindors, Weasleys and friends. Smiling, Hermione's fingers trailed to the most recent of the carvings, added during that long week after the Final Battle.

**Ron loves Hermione **

When he'd finished, he had held her gaze firmly, flipping the knife around and offering her its handle.

**_Hermione loves Ron_**

She'd carved that one herself.

Hermione looked up at her husband, eyes brimming with tears.

His hands were shoved deep inside his pockets. He shrugged self-consciously, peering out from under his fringe with a bashful grin. "I know it looks big right now, but when it's surrounded with kids..."

Herrmione launched herself into his arms, and they fell together onto the well worn surface.


End file.
